


Dreamscape

by TrekTraveler



Series: Legend of the Light Bringer [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekTraveler/pseuds/TrekTraveler
Summary: When the Doctor's companion, Alyssandra Barrett is struck down by a mysterious illness, it will be up to him to save her.  But this is no ordinary ailment, she knows things she shouldn't and does things that are impossible.  Can he solve the mystery before he loses her forever?*This was an old story I originally posted on Teaspoon and an Open Mind years ago.  Reworked it to fit this series**Part 3 of the Legend of the Light Bringer Series
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Legend of the Light Bringer [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902547
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

The TARDIS was once again hurtling through the star-strewn planes of time and space. The huge glass and crystal column in the center control console kept a steady rhythm as the TARDIS worked to propel her passengers through the vortex. Alyssandra Barrett sat on the control room floor, her back supported against one of the bronze beams and her legs folded criss cross style. Her last adventure with the Doctor had left her feeling completely wiped out. But then, running for your life from a tribe of highly uncivilized Ape Fish could do that to a person. Even after her shower, she could catch the faint scent of seaweed and saltwater wafting up her nose. 

The Doctor, amazing turn of events that. Lyssa wondered at her luck. How a girl from middle of nowhere America ended up traveling through time and space in a little blue box was frankly beyond her. It had seemed to be a perfectly innocent invitation, “Fancy a trip?” he’d asked in that silly, charming way of his. How could she refuse? 

Lyssa watched her companion with mild amusement; he didn’t seem to be suffering from fatigue in the least. But then he never did. The Doctor bounded from one side of the control room to the other like a pinball, flipping switches in his wake. And he was talking, jabbering on a million miles a minute. He was always talking. She liked that about the Doctor, his ramblings were oddly endearing. If one listened long enough, there was usually a nugget of useful information amongst the stream of never-ending observations. 

Lyssa wondered at his boundless energy. Normally, she had little trouble keeping up with the Time Lord, but not today. She rolled her shoulders trying to work the kinks from her aching muscles. Last night had been unusually restless. No dreams bothered her, but no sleep did either. She woke early with a dull headache behind her eyes and a crick in her neck. 

“Perhaps I’ll grab a quick nap before we reach our next destination.” Knowing the Doctor, she’d need it. It seemed to be a little chilly in the TARDIS as well, she realized as a small shiver traced its way down her spine. Lyssa decided that a hot cup of tea would go nicely with that cat nap.

“So, Barcelona! The planet, not the city,” the Doctor explained turning a glowing dial to his left, “Lovely place, perfect for a little holiday. Certainly, well-deserved after that last place. Who knew that Flying Ape-Fish could be so inhospitable?”

Getting no response, the Doctor glanced over at his companion who was being uncharacteristically quiet. A book lay open on her lap, as was her habit when keeping him company while he tinkered. Alyssandra was particularly good at multitasking. She easily held conversation with him while she read, worked on a crossword, or patched up the torn sleeve of her favorite jacket. Although currently she wasn’t doing any of those things. She was staring off into space, seemingly lost in thought.

“Probably exhausted,” he thought. Being a Time Lord, the Doctor required little sleep and could literally go days without suffering from deprivation. Humans were another story; they need sleep and plenty of it. “Better put her to bed, the last thing I need is a cranky Human on my hands.”

Alyssandra suddenly realized that the Doctor had stopped talking. She looked up to find him looking intently at her. She smiled sheepishly, “Sorry Doctor, must have been daydreaming.” She shivered again and tried to rub some warmth back into her upper arms. “Did you say Barcelona?”

The Doctor stopped his fiddling with the time controls and approached the young woman. She looked pale, he realized upon closer examination. Her eyes lacked their normal sparkle. He crouched down in front of her and laid a hand on her forehead, “Not feeling well, eh?”

Lyssa swatted his hand away, “I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night”

The Doctor frowned and moved his hand from her forehead to her cheek, his concern growing. “Your temperature is elevated.” He pulled his sonic screwdriver from his jacket and immediately started scanning in full investigative mode. 

“Lack of proper rest comprises the human immune system. When was the last time you got a full eight hours of interrupted sleep? And what about your vitamin regime? I know you don’t eat properly. How about fluid intake?” He rattled off questions rapid fire. “The rate at which you humans dehydrate is astounding!”

“Doctor, I’m fine. I just have a headache.”

Suddenly, the sonic was blinking directly in front of her face. “Headache, hmm?”

She squinted her eyes at the annoying light, “It’s getting worse, actually.”

He stopped as a thought struck him, “When did you last have your menstrual cycle?”

Through with his prodding, Lyssa got to her feet, “Oh my god, stop fussing! I just need a cup of tea to warm up, I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you go lay down,” suggested the Doctor, “I’ll bring the tea to you.”

She grinned at him, flashing the dimple to the left of her mouth, “Going domestic, Doctor?”

She was trying to charm him, trying to get him off the subject of her health. After traveling with the woman for two years he had gotten to know her evasive tactics well. The Doctor fixed her with a firm look, “One cup of tea hardly qualifies as domestic Alyssandra Barrett. And since when are you the authority on domestic life?”

She was already starting towards the corridor that led to the kitchen, “I may not be Susie Homemaker, but I’ve had your tea and I think I’ll pass.”

“Hey” he exclaimed “Now who’s being rude?”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own tea,” as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she began to doubt them. The unbelievably strong wave of dizziness caught her off guard. A shaky hand went to her brow as the pain in her head intensified to blinding. She reached for the control console in a vain effort to steady herself; somewhere in the back of her suddenly foggy mind she realized it was a bit late for that. “Damn,” she thought, “The Doctor was right… again.”

“Doctor…” the word came out a whisper just as her world went black.

The Doctor was quick; noticing the warning signs before she did. He ran to her side and caught her just as her knees buckled and her eyes slid shut, “Just fine, eh?”

He held her limp form securely with his right arm while free hand felt along her throat for a pulse which he was relieved to find strong. He lifted her into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder has he quickly made is way to the Medbay.


	2. Braveheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams that aren't dreams. The Doctor is stumped!

Cinnamon. Cloves. And something else, something elusive that she couldn’t quite identify. It smelled familiar, like Christmas Eve, or breakfast at her grandfather’s house. It tickled her nose as she inhaled deeply and sighed. Someone was calling her from somewhere far away. “Lyssa…. Alyssandra…”

The Doctor continued to pass the small, glass vial under her nose, encouraged when he saw her eyelids flutter, “Come on now,” he gently urged, “Come on. Open your eyes for me.”

“Cinnamon sugar,” she murmured, her eyes finally opened completely; their shining green color made all the more brilliant against her pale skin.

The Doctor smiled down at her, “There you are, welcome back.”

“Hello,” she smiled back then frowned when she recognized the starkness of the Medbay. “What am I doing here?”

The Doctor slipped on his black-framed glasses and peered at the read-out screen to the side of the bed, “You fainted.”

“No I didn’t! I’ve never fainted in my life.”

“You did, collapsed in the Control Room, quiet gracefully actually,” he paused to look up and flashed her a grin, “Well done. Although, it was rather sudden, barely gave me time to catch you.”  
Lyssa felt a blush creep into her cheeks at the thought of lying unconscious in the Doctor’s arms. “I thought I smelled cinnamon earlier, or was that a dream?”

“Time Lord’s version of smelling salts. Much more pleasant the ones used on Earth,” he replied, holding up a small vial of cobalt blue glass, “You weren’t coming around on your own so I… encouraged you.”

“I see. Well, thank you Doctor,” she said struggling to sit up. Her vison swam and the room tilted dangerously although she tried to ignore it. “I’m just going to…”

The Doctor’s hands were on her shoulders forcing her to recline, “Nope, don’t even think about it.”

“But Doctor,” she protested.

The Doctor put a finger to her lips, “Hush. You’re staying right here until I can figure out what’s wrong with you,” his dark, brown eyes warmed with sympathy, “I know how strong you are, but you need to rest. Let me take care of you.”

Lyssa held his gaze and nodded mutely. He gave a reassuring smile and ran his hand over her cheek in a gentle caress before turning back to the read-out screen.

“There is no virus or infection in your system. Blood count is normal. Your vitals are perfect for a human woman of your age. I don’t show so much as a cavity!” The Doctor sat back; a speculative frown creased his handsome features. “You, Alyssandra Barrett, are in peak physical condition. Aside from a mild temperature, can find nothing amiss. Certainly, nothing that would cause you to drop like a stone.”

Lyssa rubbed absently at her temple, wishing desperately that she was in her own bed. The bright lights combined with the white walls were causing her head to throb. “Its just a headache, Doctor. Can’t you just give me some pain killers and send me to bed?”

“What kind of a doctor would I be if I allowed you to toddle off on your own after you collapsed at my feet?”

“The kind that respects the wishes of his patients?” she ventured hopefully. “I’m beginning to feel like one of your weirdo science experiments.”

“My science experiments are not weird.” He countered, refusing to let her bait him into a side conversation. “Are you prone to headaches?”

“I used to get migraines as a kid,” she admitted tiredly. “They were horrible, but I grew out of it. I haven’t had any for years.”

The Doctor studied her for a moment, looking as if he was trying to make up his mind about something. “There is another test I’d like to try, with your permission.”

At her nod, the Doctor got up and sat down directly on the side of the bed. The look of intensity in his eyes had her hesitating. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to look inside your mind directly.”

“What? Really?”

“A Time Lord quirk,” he replied as he positioned his long fingers along her temple and cheekbones. He looked deeply into her eyes, “Now, if there is anything you don’t want me to see, just imagine a door. I won’t look anywhere you don’t want me to.”

The coolness of his touch was incredibly soothing and even though the pain her curiosity was piqued. “What do I need to do?”

“Just relax,” he replied, his voice smooth in its suggestive quality. “Close your eyes and relax.”

The sensation of the Time Lord consciousness touching her own, caused Lyssa to gasp aloud. It was an assault to every one of her senses. The immeasurable scale of it, not just of sight and sound. There was the briefest flash of what she had to assume was time itself. The magnitude of it took her breath away, the size of it all! Being only human, she couldn’t perceive it in the same way the Doctor did. It was vast and complex and infinitely beautiful. 

The Doctor felt her pull away the moment he made contact and he paused to give her a moment to become accustomed to his mind in hers. Direct telepathy was difficult for humans, overwhelming in many ways. He did his best to be gentle in what he knew was an intrusion. 

“Relax. Just breathe and relax. Good, very good. That’s it,” he encouraged and felt the walls of her mind ease. 

Images came through from her life, some of them recent. Trips they had taken, adventures they had. The triple sunset of Telnori Five. The first time she saw the TARDIS, the utter wonder of that first trip. Faces he knew, Jack Harkness grinned and winked at him. The rest of the Torchwood crew made an appearance, her beloved dog too. He saw himself, lifting her off her feet and spinning in a circle with laughter. 

The faintest whiff of honeysuckle and jasmine blooming in summer came on a breeze. The taste of bitter chocolate and tea flavored with vanilla. He caught a few bars of a song that Lyssa tended to hum when she was deep in thought. There was a very prominent figure of a huge man with white hair and beard. He was a mixture of absolute adoration and love tinged by the shadow of grief. A door appeared then, and he moved on to the task at hand.

The pain was growing in its intensity. The Doctor could feel it, building pressure and tightness. It was white hot and angry. It radiated down her neck and made him dizzy. Even his own stomach responded unpleasantly. 

“Ah Lyssa. Not feeling well at all, are you?” He sent soothing calm and coolness through the inflamed neural pathways. It acted as a balm and quieted the nerves transmitting to the pain receptors in her brain. She relaxed into his touch then and he could distantly hear her release a sigh. 

When he was satisfied that the last of the pain had been dealt with, the Doctor eased himself from her mind. Lyssa slumped forward into the Doctor’s arms. With the headache gone, fatigue took hold and she slipped into a deep sleep. He gently laid her back on the pillow and pulled the blanket up, covering her to her chin. 

“Sleep,” He murmured as he tucked her in and brushed stray strands of hair back from her face. He may have infused a slight suggestion as he left her mind. It was best, really. They had been traveling non-stop for weeks now. It was possible that the migraine had been brought on by simple exhaustion. Especially if Lyssa had been prone to them as a child. Fragile. Humans were so fragile. They required care and looking after, but in the Doctor’s estimation they were very much worth the effort. 

Lyssa was running through a swirling, gray mist. Running from what, she didn’t know, but her instincts told her to keep moving. She ran faster and faster, legs pumping, heart thudding against her ribs. It was cold too; her breath came out in white puffs as she sprinted into the unknown. She couldn’t see where she was going, had no idea where she was but any place would be preferable to where she had been. And there was no power in the universe that could make her go back. Onward. Upward. Forward, must go forward. Never stop, never look back. 

Voices, someone was speaking. Lyssa skidded to a stop and strained her ears. Just there, off to her right, muffled voices. She followed the sound. As she drew closer to its source, the mist began to clear and she recognized the winding corridors of the TARDIS spread out before her. The hallways walls seemed impossibly tall and twisted like a funhouse mirror. The floor tilted beneath her feet as if she were in the belly of a ship. Everything seemed distorted in some way. 

Listening carefully, she continued down the hall, leaning on the walls to keep her balance. The voices growing ever louder as she approached the Control Room. She stopped just short of the threshold. She could hear clearly now, two voices, a man and a woman, neither of which she recognized.

“Is that supposed to be Heathrow?” demanded the woman

“Slight miscalculation,” was his reply.

“I swear a broken clock keeps better time than you, Doctor. At least it’s right twice a day!”

The Doctor! If anyone could help her sort this out, the Doctor could! Lyssa rushed forward into the room. She was not greeted by the familiar sight of her Doctor with bed head and a pin-stripe suit. She found instead a fair-haired man in a cricket uniform arguing with a woman dressed head to toe in purple. They bickered back and forth, taking no notice of her. The woman had called him Doctor. Even the control room itself was wrong! Walls were stark white with a modular circle pattern. The console looked as if it belonged to the first Apple computer, not a sophisticated time travel machine.   
What the hell was going on? What did this all mean? And why couldn’t they see her?

More people filed past her, again paying no attention to her, or each other for that matter. Men and women of all sorts, like ghosts. They walked through walls and through each other. All talking at once and none of them making any sense. 

She caught snippets of conversation; names of people she’d never met, places she’d never been. But through it all one thing was a constant, the Doctor. He was everywhere. Lyssa wasn’t just seeing history; she was seeing his history. They must have been his friends, she realized. They had traveled with him, once upon a time. 

All of those companions, friends and more that had come into his life, been whisked away to the stars and beyond in his magic box. They were all there, right in front of her. The Doctor was there as well; very different, yet somehow always the same. It was comforting in some odd way. No matter the form, the Doctor would be there, carry on just as he always had. The one constant in her wobbly world.

The Doctor didn’t realize he had fallen asleep himself until Lyssa’s moans woke him. Alarms sounded from the equipment monitoring her bio-signs. That low-grade fever had risen significantly over the past few hours and her pulse was racing even in her sleep. The blankets were all thrown off and her clothes were damp with sweat. 

He was across the Med Bay in an instant, locating the fever reducing hypo marked for humans. Returning to her side, he rolled up Lyssa’s sleeve and injected the medicine into her arm. Finding a bowl of cold water and a washcloth on the table beside the bed, he sent a quick mental thank you to his beautiful ship. Obviously, she was worried about their human too. 

Lyssa muttered incoherently in her sleep as the Doctor bathed her flushed face. A glance at the monitors told him the medicine was fast working, and for that he was grateful. Still not sure as to the cause for her condition, at least he was able to keep the symptoms in check. 

She turned her head to the side and murmured, “Braveheart…”

The Doctor chuckled, rinsing the washcloth, and applying it to her forehead. “Dreaming of that famous Scot? Bet you’re giving him a run for his money.”

“Braveheart…. Tegan.”

The Doctor froze, “Tegan,” he repeated the name of his former companion and deep foreboding settled in his hearts. 

“How the hell did you find out about Tegan?” he wondered aloud. It’s not as if he ever talked about her, or any of the others for that matter. The Doctor was a time traveler, but that didn’t mean that he ever looked back. Not really. Forward was the way he moved through life; it was the only way he could. 

“Doctor!” she cried out; tears trickled down from her closed eyes. Her brow furrowed in response to whatever fever induced dream haunted her. “Doctor, please no!”

He tapped Lyssa’s damp cheek, hoping to rouse her gently, “I’m here, I’m here. Come on now, Lyssa. Wake up.”

“Lost…” she moaned; her bottom lip quivered. “I’m so lost.”

“Lyssa,” he grasped her by the shoulders and forced a bit of sternness into his voice. “Lyssa, its time to wake up. Lyssa!”

At last she broke free of the nightmare and came to the real world. Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright on the bed. She looked straight into the eyes of the man at her side. It was him, the wrong Doctor from her dream. The stranger with shining blonde hair and blue eyes. 

Oh god! I’m still lost! Where is he? Where is my Doctor? Lyssa’s thoughts closed in on her and she backed up against the headboard in a panic. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will her Doctor back into existence. 

The Doctor immediately stilled his movements and held up his hands in what he hoped translated as non-threatening. She was obviously hallucinating, seeing something to fear instead of someone she trusted. He tried again, much slower this time. “Alyssandra. It’s alright, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. Will you look at me?”

She shook her head and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs.

“It will be alright, I promise.” The Doctor dropped his voice to a soothing tone, “It’s just me, the Doctor. I’m here to help you, if you’ll let me. Lyssa, I need you to look at me. Please?”

It took a bit of coaxing, but his patience was rewarded when soft gray-green eyes peeked out at him over her knees. He smiled gently.

Her eyes widened in near disbelief. “Doctor?”

His smiled widened to a grin, “Hello.”

“Oh my god,” she launched herself into his arms, holding on for dear life. 

The Doctor could feel her frame shaking and he tightened his embrace. After 900 years, he certainly knew how terrifying nightmares could be. He had lived through enough of them. He knew how hard it was to separate them from reality. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You are right here with me. You are perfectly safe.”

It took some time, but when she managed to stop shaking, Lyssa pulled back and studied the Doctor’s face again. The familiar dusting of freckles, warm brown eyes, and tousled hair to match. This was the face she knew and trusted. This was the Doctor, the real Doctor.

He passed her a glass of water and she sipped it slowly, never letting her eyes leave him for fear that he might disappear again. 

The Doctor was grateful for the recognition he saw in the wary eyes studying him, but the fear lurking there had him worried. He took the glass back when she finished and replaced it with his hands instead. 

“Your fever spiked while you were sleeping. Its back down now, but those dreams can be intense.” He traced circles on the back of her hands with his thumbs. A slow, soothing motion. It was an old trick he had used many lifetimes ago when his children needed comfort after a bad dream. “They can seem so real, especially when you’re ill.”

He could feel her relax and her heartrate return to normal. “Don’t even know what I saw. It didn’t make any sense, so jumbled. All these people… strangers. I could see them, but they couldn’t see me. Like they were ghosts, or maybe I was the ghost.”

“Do you remember Tegan?”

“She wore a purple suit,” Lyssa murmured as the image came to her mind. “Braveheart.”

The Doctor nodded, “Braveheart.”

“She was real, wasn’t she? And you were there… you but not you.” She locked eyes with him, “You were blonde.”

“A folly of my youth.”

“This wasn’t a dream, was it? They’re memories.”

“I’m not sure,” the Doctor said, troubled by the admission. He immediately thought back to the scans he performed on her nearly two years ago. The heightened activity in her brain had certainly pointed to psychic tendency. Although, she had shown no sign of that outwardly until now. This wasn’t exactly what the Time Lord had expected to happen when she tapped into it. But then, this sort of ability in humans was rare and therefore impossible to predict.

“Doctor?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice.

He smiled brightly at her, tucking away his theories for the moment. It was useless to speculate until he had more information and his companion certainly wouldn’t benefit from his musings.   
“Not to worry, Lyssa! We’ll sort it, I promise. But for the moment, let’s sort you. How are you feeling now? Headache still bothering you?”

“Um, only a little.”

“Hmm, well that fever is mostly gone now but your glucose levels are low. Are you hungry?”

Lyssa’s stomach actually growled loudly in response. She had to laugh then, “I guess I am.”

“An excellent sign!” The Doctor declared, bounding to his feet. He gathered the discarded blankets up and settled them over her lap. “Anything you like, I am at your service! Although, you know the extent of my culinary skill so choose wisely.” 

“Peanut butter and jelly?”

“You’re letting me off easy,” he teased. “Comfort food?”

“Childhood staple,” she confirmed with a small smile.

“Ah. Tea?”

“Chocolate milk.”

The Doctor shook his head in obvious exasperation, “Americans.”

Lyssa watched the Doctor disappear through the doorway and her smile faded. There was plenty he wasn’t telling her; she was sure of it. They had built a solid trust over the years, but he still kept things from her. Usually for one of two reasons. One, if it was a private matter or two, if he felt her safety was at risk. It was impossible for her to tell at this point which category this fell into.


	3. I Like it When You Use my Name

The Doctor had ten of the finest peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ever created piled high on a blue plate. TARDIS blue, or close to it. It was bound to amuse his companion, she always got that charmed look on her face when she found something in that particular hue. 

“It’s a wink!” she declared with delight, picking up a seashell that washed up on the beach at her feet.

“A wink?”

“A good omen, a sign from the universe that we are on the right track,” she brushed grains of sand from her treasure and slipped it into her pocket. “You never find shells that color and it just landed at my feet!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but smile. Humans had such a unique perspective on life, they delighted in the perfectly ordinary and saw the wonder he sometimes forgot. “That’s a turanna shell. Its exposure to the native kelp gives it that color, quite common on this planet.”

“I only see the one.”

“It’s high tide! Come back at low tide and there will be loads of them.”

“We are not here at low tide; we are here now.” She tucked her arm through the crook of his elbow and grinned, “A 21st century human and the last of the Time Lords stroll along a beach on a planet that only has a breathable atmosphere once every 250 years and find a single shell the exact color of the TARDIS. Its lucky.”

“It’s unlikely.”

“It’s magic!”

Alyssandra had maintained that same sense of wonder since day one. Every day was filled with magic as far as she was concerned. If she didn’t find it, then she made her own. 

She simply had a way about her, a light, a glow. Everything she touched seemed to sparkle. People responded to it. Everywhere they went, no matter the planet or the species. The way she was able to connect with a perfect stranger was astounding. A thing of beauty and just one of the qualities that made her so very special. 

He had never told her about the scan he took after their trip to the Calamarane shine. The mind was a delicate thing and abilities of this nature must be allowed to surface on their own. And now that they had, it was best to tread carefully. The physical symptoms were likely only temporary. Once Alyssandra was able to access her abilities consciously, things would balance out. 

It was strange though, the way she tapped into Teagan. Truth be told, it had unnerved him and had him wondering what else she had seen. Ghosts, she had said. Well, there were plenty of those rattling around him.

The Doctor considered his options as he stirred chocolate syrup into a tall pitcher of milk. It had been eons since he last worked with someone on a psychic level. Not since his Time Lord Academy days. Entering someone’s mind in his usual manner was one-sided really and as much hypnosis as anything else, this would be far more complex. Teaching a novice and a human to boot… tricky.  
Suddenly he was pulled from his musings when Lyssa’s dog ran into the galley. An over-sized black Labrador named Denver who was equal parts slobbery affection and eager clumsiness. The Doctor didn’t often have canines as part of his crew, but Lyssa had been insistent.

“This is a time machine, you know,” the Doctor said, already scratching Denver behind her ears. “We will be gone and back without her even knowing the difference.”

“I know, but I’ll know the difference. I just…” Lyssa’s cheeks colored bright pink. “I just need her with me.”

“You sure? Traveling can be dangerous.”

“I can’t sleep without her,” she finally admitted. “We’re a matched set.”

“Ah,” the Doctor nodded his understanding. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to be a dog person.”

Lyssa’s face lit up in a mega watt smile and her dog bounded off through the opened doors of the TARDIS and disappeared inside. 

The distant sound of something crashing had the Time Lord asking, “Is she actually house trained?”

“Oh yes! Well, mostly.” She chewed on her lower lip and shrugged. “Just mind your shoes, she likes to collect them, but only the left foot.”

The Doctor knelt down and took the sock out of the dog’s mouth, “Hey there, Denver girl. Looking to play, are you?” 

Truth be told, he loved dogs. They held a special place in his hearts ever since K9. And as such, he was able to communicate with them telepathically. Well, sort of.

Her thoughts simple but worried. *Come now. Sick. Hurt. Problem. Help. Help. *

*Good girl. Show me. * The Doctor abandoned his sandwiches and followed Denver who was already running down the hall.

The long-legged Time Lord had to put in an effort to keep up with the dog who was running at a full gallop. He passed other articles of clothing scattered through the corridors. Shoes, the other sock, a pair of well-worn jeans and a violet sweater. All things Alyssandra had been wearing when he left her in the Medbay.

When he caught up with Denver, she was sitting obediently next to an open door. She looked up and whined as he approached. He patted her head and instructed her to stay while he passed and entered the room.

The Doctor knew it at a glance. The white circles and uncluttered design of the control room favored by his earlier regenerations brought a wave of nostalgia along with confusion. 

She was there, of course. Stripped down to a plain pair of black underwear and white tank top, Alyssandra moved around the console with remarkable efficiency. 

“It’s about time you showed up,” she said, as she flipped switches. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he replied, studying her as he slowly approached. She was flushed from head to toe and sweat ran down her neck and back. What little clothes she had on were soaked through and plastered to her skin. 

She looked up at him with eyes dilated to the point of being nearly black. The voice she answered with was not her own, accented English instead of American. She grinned wickedly, “Forgiven.”

The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, “What are you doing?”

“Adjusting the temperature for a start. Its hotter than the surface of the second sun in here!” She wiped river of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She cocked an eyebrow at his scanning, “Always with the sonic, don’t you ever tire of predictability?”

The Doctor frowned at the readings. Her heart was racing at nearly double the normal rate, as if she were running from a legion of Cybermen. And her temperature was nearing 40 degrees. No wonder she was so hot, she was burning! If he didn’t get that temperature down soon, she’d be in real trouble. “Alyssandra, I need you to come back to the Medbay with me.”

She continued as if she didn’t hear him, “Why did you ever change the desktop to that dreadful coral? This is far more functional. Classic is classic for a reason, you know.” She drummed her fingers absently against her thigh while typing commands into the dash.

The Doctor wasn’t concerned with her messing about with the controls, this was only a copy of the actual control room. As such, she wouldn’t be doing any real damage. But possible damage to herself was a real danger. “Lyssa.”

“Doctor,” she returned, mimicking his serious tone.

“You’re ill. You need to come with me so I can treat you. Let me help.”

She laughed then and looked up at him with such distain that he was taken aback. “Doctor. The man who makes people better. How sanctimonious is that?”

The Doctor’s stomach flipped over unpleasantly as the words hit their mark. This was no hallucination or unintended telepathy; this was something altogether different. “Who are you?”

Lyssa’s eyes lit with humor and her grin turned manic. “Ha! Now you’re asking the right questions! Although, I have to admit, it does sting a bit that you don’t recognize me.”

She came around to the Doctor’s side of the control panel and lifted herself to perch delicately on the edge. She crossed her bare legs casually at the knee and drummed her fingers on the cool metal. “Must be this pretty package that makes it so hard to see what lurks underneath. I shouldn’t be surprised; you always did have a type.”

Her fingers tapped out that staccato four beat pattern that was sickeningly familiar. He looked into Lyssa’s nearly black eyes and he whispered the name he never thought he’d utter again. “Master.”

“I like it when you use my name.”

The Doctor’s mind raced, “You’re dead.”

“Yes, I am. Thanks to you.” Lyssa spat as she swung her legs like a child over the edge of the console. “I know, I know. Technically, it’s not your fault, you didn’t pull the trigger. You just have so much guilt already, I figure I may as well add to it. I mean, honestly… how do you carry around all that baggage?”

“How are you here?” The Doctor ground out between clenched teeth.

“Well, I’m not. Obviously. I’m more of a reflection,” she leaned over to whisper seductively in the Doctor’s ear. “An echo.” 

“What do you want?”

She shrugged, “Have a bit of fun, as always.”

Lyssa slid off the console and strolled around the room with movements sleek as a cat. She rolled her hips as she ran her fingers along the raised panels of the wall. “What do you want, Doctor?”

“I want you to come to the Medbay with me, we can get this sorted.”

“Ugh! You never used to be this boring! This is what comes from surrounding yourself with lesser life forms… Come on, Doctor!” Lyssa braced both hands on the console and leaned forward to challenge the Time Lord. “She doesn’t know, does she? Little Lyssa.”

“Know what?”

“The true extent of your obsession. Hard for her to see it, I suppose. But you are so very obvious.” She spared him a pitying look, “She thinks you don’t see her, not really. That you delight in her company only when she’s running. If only she knew just how much you really see. How you notice every detail of her. The silky texture of her skin, the way her breath catches when she witnesses something amazing.”

Lyssa rounded the console again, keeping eye contact with the Doctor as she approached, leering at him. “How perfectly her body fits against yours when you embrace and her head tucks just so under your chin. How the color of her eyes matches those shallow crystal lakes on Mount Perdition and remind you of home to the point your hearts ache!”

“Stop it!”

“Does she know how you study her when she isn’t looking? That you’ve memorized the exact angle she tilts her head at when she reads. Or that tune she hums when deep in thought. How she takes her tea and how her every thought is betrayed by the expression on her face.”

The Doctor watched her carefully as she circled him, taunted him. Maybe it was it a possession or some version of the Master that had hidden away in her mind. Whatever caused it, he had to find a way to stop it. The strain of this encounter was not without consequence. 

“Oh, how she looks at you! As if you hung the moon and stars just for her. She sees you as the hero you always wanted to be.” Lyssa’s voice caught and dropped with a touch of melancholy. “It’s one thing to act a hero, Doctor. It’s quite another to actually be one.”

“I never wanted to be a hero,” the Doctor replied at last.

She held him with her gaze, so like the Master’s in its madness and anger. Threat laced every movement. “You forget who you’re talking to.” 

In another flash the boiling hatred for him was gone, replace by manic glee. “I have to commend you on your choice of companion, Doctor.” Lyssa ran her hands down her torso to her hips and back again, pulling at her shirt to expose several inches of narrow waistline. “This latest model is truly lovely. Have you told her that you could bring her to the edge of oblivion with a single touch?”

“Lyssa,” the Doctor tried again, refusing to be baited by the Master’s salacious implications. “Lyssa, listen to me, you’ve got to stop this.”

She was directly in front of him now, just a breath away. Her hands slid up the Doctor’s chest, her palms resting over each of his hearts. “She could be yours; you know. With a word, you could have this human in every way imaginable. Possess her entirely.”

The Doctor grasped her around each wrist, feeling the pulse hammering just under the skin. He was losing patience with the game and growled, “Stop this now.”

“She is still here, of course. Screaming. But I’m the one calling the shots. I am in full control of all those important things like lung function and blood pressure. The human body can take only so much abuse.” The Doctor felt Lyssa’s heart speed up as she spoke, racing dangerously. Her fever surged and radiated heat through her skin. 

Her wide, dilated eyes bored into his and her breathing became ragged. “How long do you suppose her single human heart keep up with your two Time Lord ones before it explodes in her chest? It would be a pity if she stopped breathing or had an aneurysm. Or bit off her own tongue.”

He released her then, his hands fell to his sides in submission. “Please.”

“The mighty Time Lord undone by a human girl. Pathetic.” She reached around the Doctor and flipped a large toggle switch. The TARDIS groaned in response and the floor shook as the time machine set off.

The Doctor looked at the control console in disbelief, “What?! But that’s impossible! You can’t actually pilot the TARDIS from here! This is only a copy!”

Lyssa danced around the room punching buttons in her wake, “A perfect copy, actually! And while I can’t set a new course, I can access the previous ones. Think of it as a return to sender button!”

“How?” demanded the Doctor. “Tell me how you are doing this!”

“Oh dear. You really have underestimated this human of yours.”

“Tell me!” he bellowed as the ship dipped dangerously and the cloister bell sounded ominously through the corridors.

Lyssa gripped the control panel and grinned like a mad woman, “You really should keep a better eye on your pets. There is no telling what sort of trouble they can get into on a ship like this!”

The TARDIS abruptly stopped rocking, obviously having reached her destination. Alyssandra typed in a few deft commands and the view screen flickered to life, displaying an all too familiar image.   
The Doctor froze. It had been centuries since he was last here. It was forbidden, after all. How in the hell had she managed it? “Kasterborous.”

All the gleeful hatred and taunting was gone now, replaced by hollowness. Haunted by the demons that always managed to catch up. “It’s as close as we can get, for obvious reasons. I haven’t been back here since… well. You?”

Unable to look away from the distant view of home, the Doctor’s replied, “No.”

“The Time Lords sat on top of the universe and gazed down on time itself, now look at us. Locked away in a meaningless battle with the Daleks for all eternity. So much for the shining world of the Seven Systems.” 

Distracted by the image of the long-lost world of Gallifrey, Lyssa didn’t notice her dog had appeared at her side. It wasn’t until Denver’s wide, pink tongue licked her hand that she looked down and blinked in surprise.

The Doctor watched the interaction carefully and hoped he was right. The Labrador had stayed obediently outside the door until he sent a mental command. With the Master distracted, there might be a chance to reach Lyssa herself and break her free of his control. The bond Denver had with her mistress was strong and reached back farther than his own. There was every chance that the dog could reach her in ways the Doctor could not. Animals could be incredibly healing, maybe they would get lucky.

Alyssandra stared down at the black dog who looked back with absolute adoration. Denver thumped her tail and nudged Lyssa’s hand for a pet. “Oh, now that’s just cheating.”

Something broke then. A crack formed within her mind and a sliver of silver light cut through the darkness. The immediate sense of relief was staggering but lasted only a moment. The pain in her head returned with a vengeance and knocked the wind out of her.

Lyssa fell to the floor with a groan, landing hard on her hands and knees. Her dog licked her face and whined, obviously anxious at the state she was in.

The Doctor knelt in front of her. He grasped her desperately by the shoulders and held her upright, “Lyssa, talk to me!”

When at last she raised her eyes to meet his, they had returned to their normal shining green although a bit unfocused as she tried to catch her breath. 

Somewhere in her scattered mind, Lyssa realized that the Doctor was looking for a response from her. A sign that she was herself again. But she was all slipping away, and the pain in her head was building again making any thought difficult to hold. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage and the only sentence she could form came out barely a whisper as darkness closed in. “Who is the Master?”


End file.
